


Darling, Will You be Mine? (Again, and Again)

by LillysoftheValley



Series: Allsorts - A Collection of Assorted GO Ficlets [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Dining at the Ritz (Good Omens), F/F, Female-Presenting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Female-Presenting Crowley (Good Omens), Fluff, Ineffable Wives (Good Omens), Leap Day, Leap Year, Marriage Proposal, One Shot, Post-(not)Apocalypse, Wordcount: 100-1.000, leap year proposal tradition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22966279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LillysoftheValley/pseuds/LillysoftheValley
Summary: There is a Leap Year tradition that on the 29th, a woman can propose to her beau, instead of the other way around. One year, Aziraphale decides that is exactly what she's going to do.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Allsorts - A Collection of Assorted GO Ficlets [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1650484
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	Darling, Will You be Mine? (Again, and Again)

It was quarter of eight, February 29th, and Aziraphale was waiting at their favorite table at the Ritz.

She was nervous, unaccountably so. She had spent weeks getting everything ready for tonight: reserving a table, requesting their favorite harpist to play, special ordering the champagne, days in the fitting room finding the right dress. Should she go with something flowy and romantic? Something daringly low cut? Worrying whether white would be appropriate or a bit too on the nose. In the end, she had gone with blue, a deep velvet navy blue studded with little shimmery bits that sparkled when she moved and hugged her curves. It had reminded her of the sky over the Mediterranean, at the end of summer, when the breeze was still warm and scented with jasmine, where the stars reflected on the ocean, and in the eyes of a certain someone who had put them there.

And then, of course, she had to get the right ring.

She fiddled with the box, glancing at the door every few minutes. She had said, eight, precisely, hadn't she? She took a breath; it would be fine, there was no need to be skittish, Crowley would show up, just like always. Only tonight was not just like always, tonight was a leap day -- a day that only came around once every four years, a day for surprises.

At eight, precisely, the harpist started to play. Aziraphale cupped the ring box tightly in her hands and purposefully did not look toward the door. She waited, trusting, and felt the moment Crowley came through the door. A wave of love, all for her.

"Angel?"

She turned, a grin and a "Crowley!" on her lips, but it turned into a "Crowley?" once she saw who had come to meet her.

Crowley stood rather awkwardly at the top of the steps, eyes unsure behind the glasses, hands twisted together nervously instead of shoved into the pockets of a short leather jacket. A surprisingly demure (for Crowley) little black dress skimmed her slender frame, paired with high top leather boots that made Aziraphale smile despite her surprise. Crowley smiled back, relieved, and hopped down the steps to join Aziraphale at their table.

"You look absolutely beautiful, angel."

"So do you, darling."

"You sound surprised."

Aziraphale chuckled. "I was hoping to be the one surprising you, but you’ve beaten me to it."

Crowley tossed her hair with a smirk. "Were you expecting an aardvark? Disappointed?"

"Not in the least," Aziraphale assured her, eyes sparkling. She motioned for Crowley to sit, and the unobtrusive waiter appeared with two flutes of champagne. Crowley sipped, humming appreciatively.

"What’s all this about, angel?"

"I wanted to ask you something, dear."

"And you went through all this trouble? Must be a pretty important question."

"Oh, it is, rather." Aziraphale felt as though her heart might beat right out of her chest. Crowley was lounging back in her chair, long fingers toying with the rim of her glass, a smile on her perfectly painted lips that suggested she already knew exactly what all this was about, but was playing along anyway. Aziraphale was so in love, she almost forgot what she wanted to say.

"Crowley, my dear, my one, my only. You are so important to me, and I should like nothing more than to be able to show you just how much every day, for the rest of the days that there are. And then probably for a good while after that."

"That’s a long time, angel."

"It is, isn't it?" Aziraphale bit at her lip, suddenly unsure. "Oh, is it too much?"

Crowley giggled. "Ngk - no of course not! Go on," she encouraged, centuries of fondness honeying her voice.

"Oh! well, yes," Aziraphale fumbled with the box in her hands. She opened it carefully, presenting Crowley with the ring. "I would like to ask you, Crowley, dearest, if you would care to marry me?"

Crowley's smile went very wobbly. She had been asked this question many times since the almost-end-of-the-world, and had asked it of Aziraphale just as often. But every time, every single time, she still got so bowled over by the love behind the asking, the absolute joy in the freedom of it, that even after all this time, it was a very near thing for her to keep her composure. Aziraphale’s lovely eyes were looking rather wet, too, so Crowley hurried to lean forward and capture both of her soft, incredibly gentle hands with her own.

" _Aziraphale_ ," she said, and it was the closest Crowley ever came to a prayer. "Sun to my stars, nothing would make me happier."

Aziraphale beamed, and every diner at the tables around them felt a bit more forgiving toward humanity. She slipped the ring from the box onto Crowley's finger, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand as she did. "Oh, I am so glad, my dear. What would you say to somewhere tropical for the wedding this time?"

"Anywhere you want to go, angel," Crowley said, and meant it.

They held hands all through dinner, and for the ride home, and for some time after that.

"Darling," Aziraphale murmured, her head pillowed on Crowley's shoulder, "I have been meaning to ask. Why did you decide to change your shape tonight?"

"Oh, that." Crowley hid an embarrassed grin in Aziraphle's hair. "It's a leap day, angel."

"Yes, I was aware. That's rather why I -- oh!" She sat up to look Crowley in the face. "Did - were you - should I not have - ?"

"Shh, angel," Crowley chuckled, pulling her back down onto the sofa. "Don't they say that great minds think alike?"

"You should have told me! I would have been happy to let you ask me this time. It is still the 29th for a few minutes; you can still ask if you'd like to."

Crowley shook her head. "Nah, I liked yours better. "'Sides," she wrapped her arms more securely around her angel, "there's always next time."


End file.
